


Broken to Peace

by boredbrooder



Series: Is There No Peace? [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-09 21:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17413430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredbrooder/pseuds/boredbrooder
Summary: Loki is recovering from an intense ordeal as a Thrall.  This is a fanfic of a fanfic by Maniploki.





	1. Chambers

The chambers were massive. Golds, greens, blacks, dark woods colored the environment. The doors to the balcony were opened and a gentle breeze fluttered pale gold gauzy drapes. More light filtered in through latticed windows. The furniture was grand, large, elaborately carved and adorned. This first room seemed for sitting and eating. A small circular table in the corner was draped in dark cloths. Closed doors on one side lead to a study, a private bath, a wardrobe, the prince remembered. An open door displayed an enormous four-post bed. Loki cringed, wondering who he’d be expected to share it with. All in all, his chambers were massive, elaborate, and excessive.

“Loki? What do you think?” asked healer Faye. It was the first time he’d seen his rooms since his banishment.

“It’s too much,” the former slave responded tightly.

“We kept it all the same for you,” Frigga added. “Why don’t you step in and take a look around? It will feel familiar soon enough.”

The two women, plus the nurse from his surgery, accompanied him on the walk to his chambers. When he’d been able to keep all of his food down every day and regularly answered his given name, they thought he could handle the rest of his recovery in more private surroundings.

Slowly, he stepped in. The plush carpets felt good under his bare feet. He wiggled his toes for the sheer pleasure of it. He stepped in farther, allowing the others to join him. They all looked around. The nurse looked particularly awed, as he’d likely never seen a prince’s chambers before. Frigga beamed with glassy eyes as her younger son looked around, gaining his bearings. 

“All of this is mine?” he asked. They’d explained it to him, that he was going to his chambers once more. Still after not having so much as a loincloth to his name for years, it was overwhelming to see what he had now.

“Yes, my son,” Frigga answered weakly. She noticed the moisture pooling in his eyes as well. He paced the room trying to take it all in. He sniffed the fresh flowers Frigga had seen delivered that morning. He fumbled with a stand on a pedestal holding pointy silver objects. They fell out and he jumped back, scared of retribution. None came as the women smiled indulgently. He rushed to pick the pieces up off the floor, but left them on the pedestal rather than try and put them back in the little stand.

Heavy footfalls announced the arrival of a new visitor. The golden haired Thor stood in the doorway, waiting permission to enter. “Hello, brother,” he asked. “May I enter?” The younger man glanced at his mother for direction. She merely smiled and left the decision up to him. Loki nodded at his brother, who entered eagerly. “How do you like your old rooms?”

“They’re too much,” Loki repeated his previous sentiment. He was still unlocking his old talents. His silver tongue had not yet returned to him, so he didn’t know how to express his feelings in more detail.

Loki stopped his pacing at the entrance to the bed chamber, his stance rigid. The others watched him quietly. His black hair fell gracefully over his medical gown, but his tense muscles were hidden in the loose fabrics. They waited a long time as he stared. Memories, pain, fear, expectation… He was paralyzed with fear and couldn’t take that next step into the room.

“Loki?” Thor was the first to speak, noting the younger man’s clenched fists ready to draw blood. Startled, the prince gasped a ragged breath and turned. Tears stained his cheeks. It was too much. “Maybe you’ll feel better if you put on different clothes,” Thor suggested.

Loki glanced at one of the closed doors, remembering it was the wardrobe, but he couldn’t recall what it looked like. Confusion wrinkled his brow and his vein popped out.

“You used to call forth clothes from your dimensional pockets. Do you remember?” Loki glanced at him with familiarity in his eyes. He called forth Seidr and scanned all his old dimensional pockets. But they were empty, cleaned out during Loki’s arrest and banishment. Only a few books recently added in the healing room occupied one of the pockets.

“I’ll have to refill them, brother,” Loki said in a deep but stable voice. He strode over to the wardrobe and opened the door as one preparing to set out clothes for another. He gazed wide-eyed at the spacious room. He was greeted with hundreds of outfits of green and gold and black and silver. Dozens stood out on display. More were tucked away on hangers and in drawers. Shoes and accessories filled more space. 

“I-i-”... he was about to say, it’s too much again when something caught his eye. It was his old favorite lounging shirt. Making up his mind, he closed his eyes and covered his body in Seidr. When the magic faded away, the shirt had transferred from its stand to his body, along with soft black trousers and a pair of slippers.

“There, that’s nice,” healer Faye said encouragingly.

“Do you feel better, Loki?” asked the gentle queen. She had moved discreetly to a cluster of lounge furniture in the light from the balcony. When Loki looked at her, she patted the seat next to her, inviting him to come and sit. Loki complied.  
“If you’ll not need me any more, I’ll return to my duties,” the nurse said from by the door.

“That’s fine. Thanks for your help,” healer Faye answered.

“Thank you,” Loki said, looking at him in mid-sit. His eyes were full of sincerity. The nurse left, Loki sat by Frigga, Thor and Faye took up other seats in the pleasant pool of light.

Frigga lead the conversation. She picked topics she remembered her young son enjoying, light topics that would hopefully cause no distress. “I have a new variety of flutterwart,” she informed pleasantly. Loki caught on quickly.

“That’s wonderful. What color is it?” he asked with enthusiasm. 

“Crimson, the darkest shade of red we’ve ever gotten from them,” came the pleased reply.

“That sounds beautiful,” Faye enthused. Loki nodded his agreement, unsure what to say in addition. But Frigga had no shortage of topics. She kept introducing new topic to keep the conversation flowing. Faye helped with her own comments and additions. Thor was grateful some of the topics he could participate in. Loki simply did his best to relax into this new role. He remembered “entertaining” from his time as Doll. He also remembered something very much like this conversation as expected entertainment from his time as a prince. He tried to recall that training.

“Well, how about some refreshment?” healer Faye suggested after awhile. Doll was suddenly firmly in place. Loki jumped off the sofa and snapped his head down in submission. How could he be so negligent? Surely, he should expect the burn of the collar, or the sting of a lash, or some other punishment.

“I’m sorry!” he hissed as he pulled his memories together for tea preparation. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” But Frigga stilled him with a gentle hand on his arm. He looked at it near panic, eyes full of fear, breath coming in short, shallow pants. But her smile drew his gaze. She looked calm, compassionate. Her eyes were full of sympathy. Loki took a large, shuddering breath and looked at his other two guests. Faye was on the edge of her seat, ready to jump up and help. Thor flexed his muscles nervously, unsure of how to help and hating to see one so powerful now so humbled.

“Sit, my son,” Frigga cooed behind him. He turned back to her where she continued to smile. With a flick of her Seidr hand, a full tea service appeared on the table before them. Loki finally sat back down and tried to calm his shaking nerves.

Loki stared at the ornate silver teapot as he grappled with his identity. Doll, the Old Prince Loki, the New Prince Loki… All these identities trying to inform his behavior. And he still had no idea who he was now.

Frigga let him sit with his thoughts as she served first Thor then Faye. But when it was his turn, she gently coaxed him out with his name.

“Loki?” The raven-haired prince snapped his eyes to her. “How would you like your tea?”

Like his tea? A voice in the back of his head pushed for attention. She’s his mother and should know how he likes his tea. A voice in the middle of his head argued back. Slaves should serve the tea, she had no business offering him some. The new man forcibly pushed both voices down. He was neither of them any longer.

“I don’t know how I like my tea,” Loki said far more calmly than his thoughts suggested. “Perhaps, mother, you could make me a cup and I’ll decide how I like it?”

“Of course, son.” She busied herself making the way he used to like it.

“Is this a part of the new man thing, brother?” Thor asked from across the table.

“Yes,” Loki indicated as he took the tea. He sipped it and let it fall back out of his mouth, spilling some all over his saucer. 

“Loki!” Frigga exclaimed as she took the cup from him. Healer Faye was on her feet in an instant wiping at his chin. The expectation of punishment hung over his head once more, but he willed himself to answer calmly.

“Thank you, healer Faye,” Loki said as she sat back down.

“Was it too bitter?” Frigga asked as she reached for the honey.

“Too sweet,” he corrected.

“Loki has not been accustomed to sweets for quite some time,” Thor guessed. “If he is to enjoy his tea as sweet as he once had, he’ll have to get used to it again.” Loki cast an adoring look at his big brother. Frigga vanished the too-sweet tea and filled the cup again. Loki sipped and this time savored it.

“Thank you,” he said politely.

When the tea was gone and the sun had shifted the pool of light, Frigga vanished the tea service and stood up. The others followed her lead. “It’s time we get back to our duties,” she said of herself and Thor.

“I should get back to the healing room,” healer Faye added. Loki followed his guests to the door. “You should stay here and acclimate to your rooms again.” Loki wasn’t sure he wanted to be left alone in this too big chambers.

“Brother, will you join me in the training arena tomorrow?” Thor asked as he shifted his feet nervously by the open door. A surge of unfamiliar excitement raced through the patient’s veins.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Frigga said in concern.

“Loki is not ready for physical combat and training. He is still recovering,” healer Faye agreed. Loki didn’t want to let the opportunity go, however. An idea occurred to him. When was the last time that happened?

“Perhaps I could watch,” he suggested. The women looked at each other. The princes held hope in their eyes.

“That should be acceptable,” Faye relented. “But no practice.” The men agreed heartily and they all left the ex-slave alone.


	2. Warriors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki watches the warriors train.

The brothers grew up bursting into each other’s rooms unannounced, so Thor thought nothing of it when he entered Loki’s room without knocking.

“Brother, are you ready?” He asked before looking around. He stopped suddenly when he laid eyes on the younger prince.

For years, Loki had been ordered not to sleep unless given permission. When he returned to Asgard, he had a new issue. Even though Thor had removed the restrictions and the control devices were destroyed, sleeping without being ordered was still hard. However, after a few weeks of having no restrictions, Loki finally succumbed to the sleep his healing mind and body needed. It didn’t surprise Thor to find his brother sleeping. It surprised him where he was sleeping.

Loki uncurled slightly on the plush carpet and lifted himself up on his elbows with a groan. “Thor?” he asked, half irritated, half uncertain.

“Loki, are you well?” Thor asked as he shifted his feet nervously. “Why are you on the floor? What’s wrong with your bed?”

 

“Beds are for entertaining guests,” Loki groaned as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes. He groaned again as he realized the implications of his comment. “Did you need something, brother?”

“Brother… brother,” Thor sighed as he entered further and knelt beside the trickster. “You are not a slave any more, remember? No one is going to … use you. There are no more guests to entertain.”

“I know, Thor,” Loki agreed, putting his hand sadly on the enormous forearm before him. “I just can’t. Not yet. The very idea… it’s too much…” Thor shook his head, thinking he understood. He smiled gently as he answered.

“Still so much damage to undo,” he said sympathetically. “It will not always be so.” Loki attempted a shallow smile of his own, but made no answer. “Come, brother. Do you still want to accompany me to the training arena?”

“Yes, I do,” the dark prince answered enthusiastically as the golden prince stood up again.

“Then get ready. Have you eaten yet?” Thor looked around, uncertain what he was looking for. Loki stretched on the floor and brushed his fingers through his long black hair. Thor made another realization that seemed to escape the former slave. “You haven’t been assigned your new hand servant yet.” Loki spun his head around at the notion. A slave for a slave? Who could serve the server?

“That is unness-” Loki started, but the older prince cut him off.

“I’ll be back in a moment.” He romped toward the door and wrenched it open, closing it gently behind him.

Loki dismissed the hammer bearer with a tisk as he clamored to his feet. He folded the blanket and put it on the back of the chair he’d found it on. He was unused to daily cleanings, but if practices in the healing room were any indication, it was expected here. He reached back in his memories to his first life. There had always been someone to bathe him then. Loki hurried to the bathroom, eager to complete his morning routine before anyone was forced to do it for him. He knew the tedious trials first hand and was not eager to bestow them on another.

The massive tub occupied a large corner. Assessing the many bottles and vials, Loki planned how to make his morning ritual as fast as possible. He sat on the toilet and brushed his teeth at the same time. He selected an outfit from his wardrobe while the water rushed into the tub. He set out towels ahead of time, then prepared to enter the soothing hot water.

“Loki?” came Thor’s booming voice. He’d entered again without knocking. And the timid prince had left the bathroom door open. A stranger and a prince looked at him as he had his pajama pants halfway down his legs, naked rump out in the air. He couldn’t help his cheeks blushing a light pink color as he scrambled upright with his pants around his waist. He’d spent a whole life on display, exposed, free for the gawking and touching. No more. Loki would not be caught out of clothes if he could help it.

“Loki, I have brought my own hand servant to tend to you,” Thor said. Both he and the stranger ignored the other prince’s discomfort as they were used to seeing naked men. “I have asked mother to assign you someone immediately. She assures me it is priority.” Loki looked stern but uncertain again. He was about to complain when the stranger spoke.

“Your highness, I am Hopr. I am pleased to assist you this morning.” Hopr made a little bow as was customary. Loki remembered many bows in his first life, but his second made them unpleasant to him. He was uncertain how to handle them in this new life.

“Have at it then. Loki, I’ll be back in half an hour. Do you think you can be ready by then?” Thor asked from by the main door.

“Yes,” Loki said from his spot by the tub. He would be ready in however much time his master allowed him, and half an hour was exceedingly generous. Thor patted the servant unexpectedly hard on the back before making his exit.

A long, stiff silence stretched before them in the thunderer’s wake. Loki stood in the bathroom clutching the hem of his pajama pants subconsciously. He’d been left alone with a stranger in guest-sized chambers with a bed for servicing. Loki swallowed hard as Hopr stepped closer.  
Thor had promised he wouldn’t be used. Mother insisted he was free. Father returned his lands and titles. The servant’s posture showed nothing to fear. Loki hoped they were all right.

“Your highness, the entire palace has heard of your ordeal,” Hopr began. “The entire kingdom thought you were dead after what happened to the bifrost. You can’t imagine the resounding joy felt at your safe return.” Hopr was right about that, the prince mused. He couldn’t imagine it. “I hope your recovery from your trauma is smooth, sir.”

“Thank you,” Loki said politely. If there was one thing consistent between all his various trainings, it was manners.

“I would like to help you bathe now, if that’s alright,” Hopr offered. Loki kept his face blank but made it hard. Even if he was just another servant, Loki would not expose himself again.

“I’ll do it myself,” he said simply as he straightened his back. He removed one hand from the hem of his pants and pushed the bathroom door closed.

By the time Thor returned, Loki was cleaned, dressed and breakfasted. He finally agreed to let Hopr brush his hair and serve his meal after the servant pleaded for something to do. Loki hadn’t understood. At least he hadn’t complained about bathing or dressing him.

“Brother, are you ready? It is time,” Thor announced as he entered, once again failing to knock. For some reason, this didn’t really bother the younger prince as much as he thought it would. Perhaps it was the long-time familiarity with this man.

“Yes, I am ready,” Loki said meekly, standing by and awkwardly talking to Hopr. Rather, Hopr was talking to him and he listened, wondering how to respond in this dynamic. Thor held the door open and Loki marched out. The whole walk there, he stayed a step behind like a well-trained slave.

On entering the training arena, four familiar people were already hard at practice. They were familiar as though from a past life.

“Thor is here,” rasped a man with black hair and almond eyes. Hogun, Loki remembered, from Vanaheim. “He has brought the silver serpent.” Loki lowered his head. Thor seethed, but had no time to answer.

“Ah, Loki, back from the dead,” A smarmy blond smirked jovially. Loki recalled he was Fandral. “How we’ve missed your greasy tricks.” Loki clenched his hands at his sides. Thor opened his mouth and stepped forward, but he was cut off again.

“The imposter king returns,” A black-haired lady of the court purred. Sif, the prince reminded himself. “Humbled at last, your majesty?” Loki spread his feet shoulder-width apart. Thor raised a quelling hand and was ignored.

“Thor, you didn’t tell us you were bringing the cowering king of lies,” a giant with an ax sneered haughty. Volstagg echoed in his head as Loki shuddered visibly. Thor lost all patience and grabbed Volstagg around the neck. Unfortunately, the rotund red-head wore such a thick mane on his face that it took the punishing sting out of the large fingers. However, it was enough to instill the fear the older prince was looking for.

“Loki is a prince of Asgard,” Thor bellowed in his face. He pushed him away hard and he stumbled back into Sif and Fandral. “He is my brother,” he added, leaning into Fandral’s face. His smile faltered at the accusation. “He deserves your respect same an anyone.” He turned to glare at the other two, who had the good grace to look ashamed.

“Thor, you can’t be serious. We know what he is now,” Volstagg dared. Lightning flashed in the thunderer’s blue eyes. 

“He is a son of Odin by adoption and therefore equal to me. Moreso,” Thor continued sharply as more objections rose. “He is a prince of two realms, making him even more worthy of respect.” Thor put a comforting hand on the one still standing in the display stance. He gave a half smile and spoke softer. “There will be no more taunts and jeers on his behalf.” 

The former slave looked up, not quite believing his ears. A deep dark longing reached to him from lifetimes ago. It was all he’d ever wanted -- equality with Thor. It was the driving force behind the mental break that started… everything. He had forgotten he had wanted it. He had forgotten it was his for the asking. Now that he had it, he didn’t know what to do with it. Figuring out this new man would be tricky.

Thor released the shocked prince and turned to the warriors. “Are we training then?” Suddenly they were all laughter and friendship again. 

“Come on, Loki, where are your daggers?” Sif asked as she readied her double bladed sword. 

“Loki is not fighting today. The healers only granted him permission to watch,” Thor informed. “But have no fear. He will be as formidable as ever when he returns to the arena.” Thor cast a wiley smile in his direction before turning toward combat.

Loki remembered this. It was two lifetimes ago but it still felt familiar. He remembered hating combat and training, and he remembered throwing his full attention into learning it in hopes of pleasing father. He couldn’t measure up because he didn’t have Thor’s strength and stamina. He had speed and agility. He’d learned to feel ashamed and let others shame him. No more, growled the new man in his head.

He turned his attention to the arena. Five of Asgard’s best warriors, each equipped with their best weapons, in an every-person-for one’s-self display. Everyone for himself, Loki remembered. That’s how it felt with Magis. The first time, he felt all alone. Between Magis and Rober, there was no one to help him, alleviate his pain. He was forced to fend for himself. When he fell back into Magis’s care after months of traveling with Anwyn and the Doctor, Loki nearly gave up hope. It was only for Nana that he’d hung on. The mysterious mortal with the butterfly pendant on her collar. Sometimes, Loki was all that stood between Nana and death. Sometimes she was Loki’s only comfort. He would not be that weak again.

Volstagg chopped at Thor, who blocked with his hammer, swinging a mighty blow at the giant, who blocked expertly. Sif came in out of nowhere and engaged the golden prince, both smiling at each other. Were they flirting? Loki remembered flirting from his first life. Fun, playful, awkward… it captured him many an entertaining night. A smile tugged at his lips as he remembered. Then another memory crossed his mind and the smile faded. Flirting in his second life was not so fun. Loki doubted he would ever enjoy sex again, or attempt actions such as flirting that would lead to sex. He slumped his shoulders with a sigh as these personas battled within him. He was glad to be in the shadows and alone. The light fell on the warriors and made their weapons glint. 

Sif and Hogun were now deep in combat, growls and grunts feeding the beastly drive. Fandral thought he could sneak up from behind, take her by surprise. Sif’s shield came up to prevent the long sword from sinking into her shoulder while her blade stopped the mace before her. They had gotten better since the young prince had last joined them. He would have to practice all the harder if he wished to match them again.

An hour of intense combat passed in which no one sustained so much as a scratch. Finally, they lined up for their calisthenics routine. Slow, firm, calming… Loki found his hands moving mechanically to the familiar gestures. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so hard to join them after all. When they’d finished the routine, they gathered their weapons to be cleaned and racked.

"Loki, come here," Volstagg called with a wave. Immediately, the slave scurried across the distance to where he racked his weapons and took to one knee, hands clasped tightly over his knee. No one spoke. Loki looked up nervously. All eyes were around him, on him. But they weren't what he had grown used to. They weren't demanding, accusing or lusting. They were concerned, even fearful! He looked from face to face with wide eyes and gaping mouth. Suddenly it dawned on him. 

"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, rewriting the fear on his face to a blank mask. He was not a slave. Doll was dead. He was a prince. He had a chamber servant. "I-I-I'm s-s-sorry. I-I forgot-t-t." He slowly lifted himself to his feet. They all looked nervously at each other as the prince picked his palm nervously. 

"I only wanted to show you my latest child," Volstagg said bashfully, holding out a small disk with a holo-projection of a crib. Loki craned his neck to look without stepping closer. "His name is Greip."

"Congratulations," the former slave replied politely. Everyone turned away, not sure how else to react. Thor approached and put a comforting hand on his brother's neck.

"It's ok, Brother. We'll get through this. I'm here for you."


	3. Summons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Odin has a discussion with Loki.

It had taken nearly a week for Loki to be assigned his own servant. Hopr was more than willing to serve both princes in the meantime, especially since Loki had been rising later than Thor. But today, the younger prince finally met his own servant. She’d entered with vicious cheeriness and open windows at an unreasonably reasonable hour. Loki was taken aback by her upbeat enthusiasm and unnaturally broad smile. However, she’d only hesitated a moment when she found him sleeping under a thin blanket on the floor in the sitting room.

Frigga entered unannounced once again but Loki found he didn’t mind. He himself had practiced this habit on Thor when the nightmares had nearly paralyzed him. Frigga found them in what appeared to be an argument, as her son looked stern with his robe clasped tightly to his chest. She’d only just caught the maid servant’s request.

 

“If you’ll just take your pajamas off, we can get you bathed and dressed for the day.”

“No,” Loki said, registering his mother’s presence. Had Hopr told her about his refusal to let another bathe him? Would Frigga understand if she knew? “I am quite capable of bathing myself.”

“A prince would refuse a servant her duties?” the maid scoffed, turning toward the closet to find him a suitable outfit. Hopr had done this for him, too, while he bathed. Frigga watched patiently. The bed was already made. A plate of half eaten breakfast meats and tea sat abandoned on the table.

“Your duties are as I assign them, are they not?” Loki asked, seeking confirmation more than anything.

“That’s true,” said the maid as she left the closet with an outfit. “Would you care to amend the duties of your chambermaid?” 

“I would. I will bathe myself.” Loki looked at Frigga, waiting for her to speak.

“As you wish,” the maid said as she went about her duties.

“How do you like your new chambermaid?” Frigga asked.

“Uncertain,” Loki informed. “What’s her name again?”

“Reidunn,” Frigga answered. “Very capable and understanding.”

“Maliciously fitting, since she’s invading my nest.” Loki grunted. Frigga did not want to argue, so she changed the subject.

“I came to see if you’d like to accompany me on a walk in the gardens this morning,” she said lightly.

“Ah, the gardens. How many hours we used to while away there,” the prince reminisced. 

“Indeed. Some of it has changed considerably, some you might find quite familiar.” The queen looked hopeful.

“Alright,” Loki said slowly, considering. “I think I would like that,” he decided.

Loki bathed while Frigga talked to Reidunn. When he was ready, they headed for the door on their walk, but stopped abruptly when they heard a knock. Loki looked with uncertainty at the woman by his side. He’d not been permitted to answer doors in his previous life. He’d been severely punished for even looking out the door, he recalled.

“Go on, son,” Frigga encouraged. “It’s your chambers.” Loki opened the door and did his best to look princely. A messenger stood with professional detachment on the other side.

“Prince Loki,” the messenger began. “I am here to inform you that your father, King Odin summons you to the throne room.” A summons. The slave-turned-prince glanced over his shoulder, a look of confusion causing the vein in his temple to pulse. Frigga offered no help, only nodded encouragingly. 

“Thank you. I attend at once,” Loki answered, reaching far back to his first life for a suitable response. The messenger bowed and departed. The queen approached the door.

“I guess our walk will have to wait,” she sighed. Loki sighed, too. 

“I wonder what he wants?” Loki worried aloud.

“You’ll discover it soon enough. Go on, you are brave, my child.” Frigga departed toward the gardens and Loki made his way stiffly to the throne room.

It was as large and as grand as as gold as Loki remembered it, but far more intimidating. So many pillars… so many places to hide. Loki vaguely remembered playing hide and seek in here with Thor and Sif and some other children of the court… as if in another life.

Loki walked forward, the massive throne straight ahead. His hands shook, so he picked at his palm. He drew nearer and saw the impressive gaze of the king… the intimidating gaze. His knees started shaking, standing would be difficult. Sweat formed on his brow as he stopped at the bottom of the golden steps to the golden throne. He looked up at the giant monarch so high above him, so far away, so unreachable. He glared down at the small man, waiting…

“F-f-f… Y-y-your m-m-m… A-a-all f-f-f… M-m-my k-k-k-k…” Loki was so terrified he couldn’t form a single word. He didn’t know what was the appropriate greeting for this situation. Odin descended quickly.

Loki didn’t understand what was happening. He’d grown up trying to prove himself to this man. He’d committed patricide to prove his loyalty. Then he found out he was adopted… Not the son of Odin as he’d been raised to believe… Not even, as it pained him to discover, Aesir. Loki had been in crisis and Odin abandoned him. His memories swirled before him, making it hard to breathe. Hanging off the broken bridge, staring, pleading, into father’s eyes -- this man’s eyes -- hoping finally for approval. The look of disappointment was enough to drive him to let go. How many times had he wished he’d died that day?

Now here the monarch was… rising from his seat… trotting down the stairs… red cape of power billowing slightly… why? As he drew near, Loki still didn’t know what to call him. The choices presented themselves in his head, where he left them this time. Allfather, my king, your majesty, father… How he longed for the sweet taste of the last word on his tongue.

Loki’s eyes widened, his chin and lips trembled, he stumbled backwards as Odin cleared the bottom step. But the older man caught the younger and held him by the back of the neck, blue eye watering slightly at his son’s fear of him.

“Loki, my son,” he said softly, aiming for the concerned paternal tone. “You need not fear me. I have been a bad father if my own son fears me so.” Loki wondered if he dared call him that sweet word. He looked in that face, once again feeling the weight that pushed him over the bifrost. But this time, there was no judgement, no disappointment, only sadness. Tears welled up and overflowed the green eyes. Odin watched them trail over the sharp cheekbones, down the hollow cheeks, over the chiseled jaw, onto the leather tunic.

“Loki, Loki,” Odin cooed. He passed a thumb over his cheekbone to wipe away his tears. “Is this how I raised you? Is this the strong warrior I raised you to be?” Loki never felt like a warrior, but Odin was right. He had not been raised to behave like this. Loki grabbed hold of his emotions and wrestled them from the surface. He passed a shimmer of green Seidr over his face to clean the salt trails. “That’s better,” Odin affirmed. He stepped back, feeling the younger man didn’t need quite as much support as a moment ago. Feeling thus encouraged, Loki said the word he’d been burning to say most.

“Father,” he said in a surprisingly steady voice, considering he’d just been crying. “You summoned me?” The appropriate phrase drug up from a past life.

“Yes, my son. I hear you have left the healing rooms and entered your old chambers,” Odin said suspiciously conversational. So the monarch wanted to check up on him, Loki noted.

“Yes, that is so,” Loki confirmed.

“How do you like being back there?” Odin paced for something to do.

“It feels like too much,” the prince said honestly. He picked at his palm again. “Thor says I’ll get used to it.”

“Good, good. Have you been assigned a new chambermaid?”

“Yes. Her name is Reidunn. I met her just this morning.”

“How do you like her?”

“She’ll take some getting used to.”

“And you were at the training arena recently, yes?” Odin looked at his son again for a reaction.

“Yes, but only to watch. The healers have not cleared me for heavy action yet.” Loki wondered yet again where this line of questioning was going.

“Fine, fine.” Odin was sounding a bit awkward and uncomfortable himself. Loki wished he’d get on with the point. “You are eating well?”

“Yes. I must be careful, though, as I am still adjusting to quite so much nourishment on a daily basis.” Odin let out a heavy sigh, regretful he hadn’t discovered his younger son’s plight sooner.

“I’m sorry you must suffer so, my son,” he said slowly. Loki was surprised at yet another apology from the powerful king. He didn’t know what to say. Odin looked at him again as he continued.

“I called for you because I felt the need to warn you.” Loki tilted his head curiously to show he was listening. “There will be a feast in your honor. The palace knows of your return, now it’s everyone else’s turn. When a prince returns from the dead, a great celebration is in order.” Odin grasped Loki’s shoulders. “I am telling you this, because you will be there. I don’t care what you have to do, but you must ready yourself to participate.”

Loki’s princely training wanted to ask questions. Loki’s thrall training wanted to take the submission position. He settled for the halfway point. “Yes, father.”

“Very good, my son. The feast will commence in a few days.” Odin released his shoulders and turned back to the steps and the throne. “You make me proud, son.” He sounded old and weak for a moment. He climbed the first few steps. “You are dismissed.” Did Loki hear him wheeze? He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t know how to find out. He turned on his heal and hurried out of the intimidating room.

“Oh, Loki, there you are!” Thor’s booming voice caught him off guard as he exited the throne room. “I thought you would be with mother, but she said father summoned you. What did he want?” Thor apparently missed his brother’s red eyes and pale complexion -- well, paler than usual.

“He wanted to check up on me,” Loki informed dryly. “He wanted to inform me of a feast to show the people I’ve returned.”

“Excellent! You remember the feasts, don’t you?” The brothers walked down the hall as they talked. Loki still tried to keep a step behind, but Thor slowed his pace for him.

“Yes. They were loud, full of people and alcohol and noise. Everyone wanted stories about everything.” Loki wasn’t sure if he was ready for the commotion and crowds of a good royal feast. He swallowed his pride and made a confession. “What if they demand stories from … before?” he asked. “I can’t … I just can’t…” He couldn’t speak of that time. They were not stories to share at a feast.

“Don’t worry brother, you’ll have plenty of feast-worthy stories to tell, won’t you? Even if you have to drag up some of our old missions and battles.” Thor grabbed Loki’s shoulder briefly as they walked. 

“I suppose you’re right,” Loki agreed, feeling no less anxious. “Where are we going?” he asked finally.

“Ah, mother is setting up tea in the garden. Since you missed the walk, she wants tea with the both of us.”

“That sounds delightful.” The brothers walked on, talking lightly and sharing memories of feasts.

“And I actually ate the whole thing!” Thor boasted with a jovial laugh. Loki’s smile faltered when he heard a sharp tone. A door was open. A gray-haired woman in an apron was reprimanding a young girl in an apron, probably a new hire. Loki tried to dismiss it. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard such things. But Doll had been trained differently. 

The prince seized up, fear and panic washing over his smooth features. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I must… I’ll fix…”

“Loki? Brother, what’s wrong?” Thor asked gently. 

“I didn’t… no… please don’t…” the former slave couldn’t finish any of his sentences. He grew more panicked as Thor tried to place a soothing arm on his shoulder. Submission position! He was being a bad slave! Loki tried to slide down to the ground. Thor wrapped his arms around him, trying to hold him and bring him back to the present.

“Loki, Loki, it’s me!” Feeling one of master’s guests around him, he went limp. He had no right to resist a guest. Loki was sliding down anyway. Thor slid down with him, bracing his back against the nearest wall. “Doll is dead! Doll is dead, remember?” Thor did his best to speak soothingly, calmly, reassuringly. Loki heard the words. He took them in, remembering everything. Finally, the sobs that had tried so desperately to get out in the throne room refused any further restraint. He broke down in his brother’s arms until he sighed himself into pathetic whimpers. A servant passed by headed for the room with the open door. She slowed to gawk, or perhaps to offer help. Thor couldn’t tell and Loki didn’t care. The elder prince nodded his head to indicate the girl should move on. “Don’t worry, brother. I’m here. Doll is dead.”


	4. Calisthenics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki finds an empty room...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Maniploki, who has given me much assistance in moving forward. All of this was inspired by her characters. Please read her various works to meet them!

Presentation position: standing, head bowed, feet shoulder-width apart, hands at side or behind back, ready for inspection.

Service position: On one knee, head bowed, hands at side or over knee, ready to obey any order.

Submission position: on both knees, butt on heels, head on knees, hands on floor by sides.

Loki stood in the middle of the empty room reviewing the positions he’d learned so well as Doll. He doubted he would ever forget them. He still found himself jumping into various positions at unexpected triggers. It was time to change this, Loki thought.

It was rare to find an empty room in the largest building on the planet. The many-sided, near circular space and hardwood floor made the room ideal for the prince’s intentions. He studied it, turning slowly, restating his intention in his head.

Finally, the young prince took his stand in the middle of the room, feet together, hands at side, head facing forward. He clenched his fists as he refused the urge to take the presentation position.

Healer Faye still had not cleared him for combat training or vigorous activity, but she thought fresh air and light activity such as walks would help build his constitution. The former slave wasn’t willing to wait for her timeline.

He lifted his hands and moved them slowly, fluidly, to the side while drawing his legs together. Then he stepped forward and repeated the stance on the other side. He lunged forward and pushed one hand forward, then again in a mirror action. He stumbled slightly at the unfamiliar exertion. That will not do, Loki mused. He started again.

When he reached the fifth position, requiring he stretch his body up and stand on one leg, Loki nearly fell down! He felt suddenly dizzy. Are you so weak? The prince chastised himself angrily. Then, a softer voice answered. Yes. He knew he needed more time. He knew he shouldn’t be so hard on himself. Others had been hard enough on him his whole life. First, trying to live up to father’s expectations. Second, trying to measure up to Thor in all things. Third, Magis. Magis and Rober and all of the guests… Loki shuddered and faltered on the next position. He forced himself to keep going. He would not be that vulnerable again!

The door opened and a soft shoe padded onto the hardwood floor. The prince halted and spun to face the intruder.

“Mother,” he greeted with slight panic tinting his joy at seeing her.

“Has Healer Faye cleared you for this?” she asked gently. Loki knew and she knew the healer had done no such thing. Loki lowered his head and looked bashfully up at her again. “Why push yourself so hard?” Loki picked at his palm as he deliberated, searching for the right words.

“Because I must,” he replied simply. He couldn’t reveal to her any more of the horrors he’d been through than she could glean from his panic attacks. He couldn’t think of a gilded lie or a silver-tongued explanation. This was the best he could think of.

“Because you must be strong in your duties as prince and warrior?” Frigga pushed wisely. “Or because you must never find yourself so vulnerable and weak again?”

“Does it matter?” Loki snipped, a faint attempt at his old sass. He lowered his head again, uncomfortable with the blossoming trait. “A little of both, I suppose. I’ve always loved Asgard and tried to do my best by her people.”

“If only more had seen your actions as such when you held the power…” Frigga trailed off. They both stood in the empty room, silence stretching between them. Only the humm of the light fixtures filling the air. Loki didn’t need her to finish. They both remembered the disaster of that short reign.

“Do you regret it?” Loki asked suddenly. The queen stepped forward, picking at her own palm. Loki stepped toward her as well.

“No, I don’t. I believed then, and I still believe, you were capable. Perhaps the timing was off, what with your recent identity discovery. Perhaps I underestimated the loyalty of your friends. I believed the six of you were inseparable. Now I see the others were only loyal to Thor.” The woman sighed deeply, trying her best to rationalize the events of so long ago and wrangle in her guilt. “I still haven’t worked out Heimdall’s reasoning.”

Loki noticed she was trembling. They had slowly moved toward one another throughout their conversation. Loki now reached his hands up to her shoulders and squeezed gently, affirming.

“You have no apologies to make,” the prince cooed in a deep voice. “The damage done was all on me. I thought the best way to protect Asgard was to remove the monsters threatening peace. The blame is all on me.”

“My son, you mustn’t be so hard on yourself,” Frigga responded. She lifted a hand to cup the patient’s cheek in a comforting manner. Loki leaned into it.

“How I have missed you, mother.” A moment later, they stepped apart and Frigga lightened the mood with her tone.

“Have you thought about your father’s celebration yet?” she asked. Loki shuddered at the thought of being surrounded by so many people in such an unfamiliar setting.

“I have,” he admitted. “Mostly with anxiety, but also with determination. Father wants me there and in good spirits, I aim to give him just that.”

“How will you give him that?” Frigga dug deeper.

“By recalling my prince’s training.” Loki placed his hands behind his back and bounced on the balls of his feet as he answered nervously.

“And when your anxiety creeps up? How will you handle it? How will you prevent another incident? Another panic attack?” Frigga had all the right questions, and her son squirmed to make answer.

“I have not thought of an answer for that yet,” he admitted. “Perhaps, I can recall a spell or look up a potion for nerves. I have a little time yet.”

“Not much, my son.” the mother’s tone was gentle and concerned once more. “I have taken the liberty of researching the potion for you.” She handed him two vials. “Take one of these when you feel you’re about to lose control.” Loki took them and looked them over.

“What is it?” he asked, eying the pink liquid. 

“Just a simple calming draught. Simple, but powerful. You must take it when you are sure you can no longer maintain control, but before you have lost control. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mother.” Loki waved them into his dimensional pocket. It was filling up again and he took pleasure in it.

“You will do wonderful, Loki,” Frigga cooed, smiling at him sweetly. “I would advise you carry those on your person throughout the celebrations, though. Seidr is tricky to work in the best of conditions, and you are out of practice.”

“Understood,” Loki said gently. He kissed her knuckles and watched her sweep out of the room. He turned his back on the door, not knowing that she stopped to watch him for just a moment longer.

Loki took the starting position and swung his arms slowly and fluidly to the side while bringing his legs together. He would continue until he completed at least one complete routine…


	5. Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Healer Faye has been ordered to examine Loki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Maniploki for helping me work out the exam questions.

Loki stood in the middle of the room with his arms crossed.

“Please, your highness. Don’t become difficult all of a sudden,” Healer Faye begged.

“I won’t do it,” Loki insisted, deepening his frown.

“You didn’t mind before. Remember when I bathed you?” Healer Faye reminded. Loki did remember, and he hadn’t liked it.

“That was different.” Loki searched for words, his eyes roaming aimlessly, looking at nothing.

“How?” the kind healer prompted.

“You bathed Doll.” There, that should make sense to her. There were only a handful of people it could make sense to.

“I bathed Doll? I saw Doll naked?” Healer Faye’s tone was becoming more stern as she grew irritated with the situation.

“Yes,” the prince hissed shortly.

“And what of Prince Loki?” Healer Faye was staying by the open door despite the distance from her patient. She glanced out. The observer in Loki recognized it as ocular communication. What was she planning? Calling for help, likely.

“I am Prince Loki.” Loki’s eyes flitted toward the door often now, watching for the new danger.

“Will Prince Loki kindly remove his clothes so we can proceed with the examination?” Faye was losing patience. Four large men appeared in the doorway, but stayed out of the room. Loki eyed them suspiciously. This was how it was going to be.

“No,” Loki insisted. He fidgeted. His arms moved restlessly. He felt exposed already.

“Might I remind you, your highness, that this examination was ordered by Ki--” Loki turned away abruptly. “By your father!” Faye finished, raising her voice. Loki stared at the wall and picked his palm and shifted his feet.

“I won’t do it.” He had nothing more to say on the issue. Healer Faye glanced at the orderlies. Loki knew what it meant before one of them even moved. All four of them entered the room. Loki grasped the hem of his trousers nervously. He wasn’t sure if it was to hold them up or push them down. Doll would have pushed them down.

“I didn’t want it to go down like this, Loki,” Healer Faye said, keeping her distance. “I’m afraid I’ll have to call your mother, Queen Frigga.” Loki’s brain registered the threat and the danger, but he couldn’t take time to answer. The orderlies were drawing nearer. “These men are here to help, my prince. Please don’t cause trouble.”

Loki released his trousers and lowered his hands to his sides. He called Seidr to his fingers. He was cornered and afraid. He would not be helpless! “Frigga will be here any minute, my prince. I suggest you allow us to do our jobs. Don’t you want to attend your father’s celebration?”

Loki was in trouble. The orderlies were closing in. What should he do? What could he do? Doll knew how to handle these situations. Submit, degrade himself to their inspections and pleasures. The Old Prince had ideas, too, mostly, ordering and threatening to get his way. The New Prince found himself battling his various personas as he tried to find the right solution. It looked like he would have to fight the orderlies as well. He would not stand naked for them! 

Frigga's commanding presence at the door stopped all in their tracks and six pairs of eyes stared at her before lowering respectfully. The queen sniffed once and Loki realized she could smell his Seidr. He did not send it away. 

“What is going on here?” she asked in a commanding tone. Her lips were pursed and her normally kind blue eyes flashed dangerously -- at everyone.

“Thank you for coming, my queen. We need your assistance with the prince.” Faye looked triumphant at the other woman’s arrival, but Frigga looked concerned at the patient.

“Why?” came the curt reply. Faye looked slightly less confident as she answered.

“He refuses to let us do our jobs.” Faye glanced nervously at the orderlies still standing watch over their charge. “He refuses to take off his clothes so we can examine him.”

“This is the examination ordered by Odin?” Loki’s brain was on standstill. He was unable to think or act in any direction. He simply observed and waited for a cue in which direction to act.

“Yes, my queen,” Faye confirmed. Frigga stepped into the room. Anger seemed to radiate off of her. Some might even have said she was glowing. Loki knew it was a Seidr trick, so it couldn’t be directed at him.

“If my son refuses an examination naked, you will examine him with his clothes on.” Healer Faye gaped at her a moment. “Is that a problem?”

“N-no, my queen,” Faye said as she bowed her head respectfully. Frigga then turned her attention to the five men. The orderlies scurried out of her way, but stayed in the room just in case. Did these men think him crazy enough to attack his own mother, Loki wondered, that they stand by to protect her?

“Loki,” the blond woman said in a kind, maternal voice. Her eyes were gentle again, and she no longer radiated anger.

“Mother,” Loki said, ashamed of the plea laced in his greeting. She held out her hands and he approached her willingly.

“Son, will you allow Healer Faye to examine you?” Frigga asked gently.

“Yes, mother. Father had ordered it.” His face spoke only of honesty and a hint of the youthful boy she’d once handed a kingdom to.

“Will you remove your clothes for the examination?” Frigga continued.

“No, mother. I will not.” Frigga’s smile faltered, but her line of questioning did not.

“Why, my son?” That was the point, the one question Healer Faye had failed to ask. Loki looked around, wanting to answer, but not to share with so many ears. Frigga turned her head to the orderlies and nodded toward the door. All four of them scurried out. “Will you tell the two of us?” 

“I will not be naked in front of another ever again,” Loki said firmly. He started picking his palm again.

“Why?” Healer Faye asked, finally catching on to the queen’s reasoning. 

“I was naked for years, used, abused. I was not my own person. I was weak, without control even of my own body. I will not be so vulnerable again.” Loki clenched his jaw stubbornly, though his eyes misted over.

“That’s that. The examination will continue with clothes on.” Frigga stated with finality. Faye already had the look of ideas on her face.

“I think that can be arranged your highnesses,” Faye said at last.

“Loki, I will wait for you. You can escort me to the tea party.” Frigga smiled expectantly. Loki had no objections, so nodded his consent. Frigga left as the healer and the patient locked eyes.

“Alright, Prince Loki,” Faye began again. “As directed by yourself and the queen, you may leave your clothes on. But I must touch you. I must touch your bare skin. I must touch places you won’t like me touching. Do you understand? It must be this way if you refuse to remove your clothes.” Loki’s frown deepened, but he slowly nodded his approval. Faye breathed a sigh of relief.

Conversation ceased as the examination continued. The only words were from Healer Faye as she indicated what she needed Loki to do, how he needed to position himself for each step of the exam. Loki stood quiet, tense, fighting Doll in his head. Doll is dead! He reminded himself. 

Her cool professional hands pushed up his tunic sleeves. Loki shuddered as her nails grazed the inside of his arm. She lifted his shirt and touched his chest. He gasped audibly. He’d never been as good as Nana when it came to inspections. She prodded his legs and thighs through his leather trousers. He tensed under her touch. She ran a smooth professional hand over his back. His shoulders hunched and his shoulder blades drew together. She groped his buttocks and the formerly chafed crack and he clenched them. When her hand went down the front of his trousers, Loki could barely stand for the shaking of his legs. He closed his eyes and clenched his trembling jaw. Doll is dead. I am Loki. She could hear him whisper through trembling lips.

“Physically, you are getting along just fine,” Faye said, finally withdrawing her hand. Loki breathed a sigh of relief but waited a few moments to open his eyes. “Anemic and underweight, still have some strength to gather before more strenuous activities. I recommend some light activity, however. Try going for walks or gardening. I want you to increase your overall meal intake and eat more red meats.” Loki listened as the healer took notes. “Now for the mental examination.”

Loki sighed again. The order did specify physically and mentally well enough. “If you’ll just sit on the edge of the bed, I’ll have a mind scanner collect all the data we need. No need to remove your clothes for this part.” 

The little scanner hovered near Loki’s head, a beam of light connecting them. It moved around, probing different parts of his brain, always keeping the light on his head. Loki thought it was rather like an annoying house fly.

“Now, your highness. I’m going to ask you some questions,” Healer Faye began. “Please answer as honestly as you can. The more honest you are, the more accurate the results.” Loki nodded to show his understanding. “What is your name?”

“Loki,” the prince stated simply.

“Your full name, please, will all titles and tags.”

“Loki, Son of … O-odin? A-a-and L-l-laufey?” Loki looked at the healer for confirmation in his answer, but she gave him no aid. “Prince of Asgard, god of mischief,” he finished quickly.

“How have you been sleeping?” Healer Faye continued, barely glancing at her patient.

“Very well, better than in years,” Loki answered curtly.

“How have you been eating? Is your appetite strong?”

“Yes, I’ve been eating heartily, certainly better than at any point in my previous life.” Again, he left out some details.

“Any trouble with bright lights or loud sounds?”

“No, not that I’ve noticed.”

“Has anything else triggered a reaction? Panic attacks, the resurgence of Doll, anything like that?” How could Loki answer this without completely lying or saying more than he felt comfortable with? He took his time in responding.

“Yes, but they were few, brief, and always my mother or brother were there to help me out of them.” Faye frowned. He was skipping on the details that would really tell her of his condition.

“How are things going with Odin?” she continued.

“Well. Surprisingly well,” Loki enthused. He left out the bit about his fear of the man’s new behavior.

The questions went on and on, each delving deeper than the last. For each one, Loki responded honestly, but always as vaguely as he could manage. Even though Healer Faye had been with him since his first day back home, he was unwilling to divulge too much and make himself too vulnerable. 

“How has your sex life been?” Healer Faye asked abruptly. Loki was not expecting this question asked so blatantly. 

“What?” Loki asked with a disgusted hoarseness to his voice. Faye looked him in the eye as she repeated the question. “Are you even allowed to ask such a question?”

“I am, Loki, as you know from past visits to the healing room.” Faye was not backing down. Loki began to sweat. He clenched his palms in his lap.

“I-I-I think the answer w-would be quite -o-o-obvious-s,” Loki stammered. He avoided Faye’s gaze now. The scanner was suddenly unbearably annoying.

“Answer it for me anyway, my prince,” Faye said respectfully.

“I just refused to take my clothes off for you, a medical professional and one who’s seen me naked already -- or seen Doll. What makes you think I’d take my clothes off for a stranger?” Faye continued to push this line of questioning, and Loki squirmed, wishing to bolt for the door.

“You have not felt any sexual urges or desires?” Loki felt his loins shrivel in his trousers, as though trying to escape even him to avoid this humiliation. Faye noticed the prince’s darkening cheeks.

“No, of course not! This is insidious and ridiculous. I should think the answers to these questions would be quite obvious. Why are you questioning me?” Loki hadn’t become aware of when he’d raised his voice. He was certainly agitated.

“Calm yourself, Loki. Shh. You don’t need to answer any more,” Healer Faye soothed with an outstretched hand. Loki hadn’t realized, but he’d started trembling. And when had his face become so wet? He summoned a soft cloth and wiped his face clean. Faye watched as she took notes. She finally turned the scanner off and the two sat in silence while the healer finished working.

“Well, Prince Loki,” Faye said at last, looking at him over her chart. “You passed the exam, if only just barely.”

"I passed? Are you sure?" Loki asked.

"Yes, I'm sure your highness," Faye confirmed.

"Why? How?" The prince was confused.

"Because today, I saw not a cowering slave but a man willing to stand his ground against opposition. That tells me you are moving forward, and far enough that you can at least handle the feast." Loki was silent as Healer Faye dismissed him and he trudged softly back to the waiting area.

“How did it go?” Frigga asked as she rose to meet him. He looked at her with a smooth stunned face. She tilted her head and waited patiently for an answer.

“I passed,” he said simply. Frigga smiled that motherly smile Loki had always loved.

“That’s wonderful, my son. Come, our guests await.” Frigga looped her arm around his and they walked side-by-side to the gardens. Though the prince decided not to comment on it, he’d realized something about his own behavior. This was the first time since his return that he didn’t walk behind anyone he felt his better. Yet, as he walked beside Frigga and holding her arm, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. He tried to hold in a contented sigh, which Frigga heard anyway, and they both smiled to themselves as they walked.

The royal gardens were one of the most beautiful places in Asgard. As they approached, the two royals caught sight of the tall, elegant, pointy-eared elves sharing a pleasant conversation with Thor and the warriors four.

“Greetings Mother, brother,” Thor bellowed when he saw them coming. All eyes turned toward them. Everyone greeted each other and passed around names before taking to the table. Ambassador Theofril and Frigga sat at opposite ends, while seven elves lined one long side of the table, and the six warriors sat on the other. The only weapon in sight was Mjolnir. Lady Sif had even put on a dress, something Loki felt Frigga had a hand in. Sitting according to rank, Thor sat closest to Frigga, with Loki next and Sif on his other side. The younger prince had nothing to contribute, having been out of the loop for years. He had much to catch up on. He found it very interesting just to sit and listen.

It was only a few minutes before the servants brought trays of food. They placed one plate in front of each of the fifteen partiers. As the lids were lifted, delicious steam met the noses and wetted their appetites. But as Loki’s lid was lifted, his servant managed a clumsy moment where he knocked the plate into the prince’s lap.

Loki jumped out of his chair, but quickly knelt to the floor. Most of the guests looked confused, expecting to witness a reprimand. Frigga and Thor became concerned, wondering if this was another Doll episode they needed to interfere with. The servants all looked expectant as Loki rose, stiff and ready for punishment. When Loki took to the floor, they relaxed and looked on with confusion of their own.

Loki and the servant both dove under the table to retrieve the fallen food. 

“I’m sorry, forgive me prince Loki,” the servant mumbled. Perhaps he thought he wasn’t doing a good enough job if the prince himself felt the need to help.

“There is nothing to forgive,” Loki assured him. “It was only a mistake.” The servant looked doubtful. “What is your name?”

“I am Puck, your highness.” 

“Let me help you, Puck,” Loki said firmly. The Old Prince was laughing disdainfully. To Loki’s amazement, however, Doll was not trying to surface. The New Prince ignored the laughing tyrant of his youth.

When the food was properly cleaned off the garden floor, Puck and Loki stood together, avoiding any further damages. A commanding older man approached as Puck grabbed a napkin and proceeded to wipe Loki carefully clean. The prince appreciated how he carefully avoided the sensitive groin. When the head servant reached the boy, he started in immediately.

“Clumsy fool!” he snapped as he hit the boy on the back of the head. “Spoiling the prince’s lunch! You will be punished for this!” He made to hit the boy again when his hand was stopped mid-swing. Loki had grabbed it before it could make contact.

“You will go lightly on the boy,” Loki said firmly, trying to regain his commanding tone. “It was a mistake, nothing more.”

“Uh, yes, of course, your highness,” the head servant replied sheepishly. Puck looked at his savior with confusion. Loki hoped the older man would obey his orders when they were removed from him. The head servant grabbed Puck by the upper arm and dragged him out of the garden. A new servant stepped up and re-set Loki’s place at the table. The prince took his seat once again, aware of all eyes on him. He knew he’d acted strangely, yet he could not feel guilty for having stood up for the young Puck. It felt right. It felt like the New Prince.


End file.
